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by Nadia Scrieva


  The only comfort was that Thornton was getting the worst of it because he was taller than she. His head acted as an icebreaker first. It was petrifying, and she might have instinctively grabbed Thornton and clung to him tightly, if not for two important factors: one, she couldn't move her arms because he held them locked tightly to her sides, and two, the only reason she was doing this in the first place was to use the ice to break him off her. Holding on tighter would not help the situation in the least, even if it were possible.

  Thornton had been using his own energy to try to pull up so that they didn't hit the ice, but Pax's momentum had been strong. The only change he was able to make was after the initial impact. He was able to shift their path so that they moved horizontally within the ice, just under the surface. After a few miles, they eventually broke out of the surface again and went sliding along the top until Thornton used his energy to forcefully stop.

  Both Pax and Thornton had torn their clothing badly—she only just noticed that he had been wearing a rather nice suit. It had probably been expensive. She felt a pang of regret thinking, I'll have to replace… stop! That's girlfriend thinking. You're not his woman anymore. There were bloody scrapes along both of their arms and backs, and bruises were visible everywhere skin was exposed. Pax panted as she lay on the ice in the aftermath of the crash. She had been hoping that one of them (preferably Thornton) would be knocked unconscious, but unfortunately they were both fine. Even after having their heads rip through several football fields’ worth of solid ice, they both seemed only a little dazed.

  Perhaps dazed was enough. Pax decided to take advantage of the dizziness she could see on Thornton's face as she made one last ditch effort to break free. He anticipated her movements from the resolve in her eyes, and he tightened his grip on her. She growled, twisting and bringing her knee up hard into his ribcage, and the two of them grappled on the ice for several minutes, turning over and over as one would gain the advantage, only to lose it again.

  Finally, fed up with the fighting, Thornton slammed Pax's body down hard into the ice, and placed his own body weight on top of her. They were both panting and breathing hard from the effort, and she could feel his chest constricting and expanding quickly against hers. Blood from his forehead dripped down onto her own forehead and slid into her dark hair. They stared at each other, one set of steely blue eyes into a darker pair. Both of their eyes were impeded by a foggy film of translucent red energy. Pax felt a bit sorry to see just how bruised his head was, but she knew he could handle much more abuse. After a few moments, Thornton smiled.

  “I’m not sure the penguins will appreciate the renovations.”

  Pax tried to resist. She tried to hold onto her anger. But her lips were already smiling without her permission. She simply couldn’t help it. My sweet Thorn.

  “Now can we talk?” he pleaded. The blood tracing patterns down his face made him look so pathetic. She felt the urge to take care of him, to heal the injuries she had given to him once again. Was it the woman in her, or the doctor? He wanted to talk, and she should listen to what he had to say. She couldn't possibly say no to those pleading aqua eyes.

  “No,” she croaked, and she dug inside herself, searching for more prana. She was ready for another round of fighting to get away from him, and possibly some more head-bashing into ice.

  He sighed, as though he were very tired. “Look, Pax. I've been trying this life-without-you thing. I don’t like it so much.”

  Could have fooled Para. “Drink, women, freedom: what’s not to love?”

  “Cool down, hot stuff.” He moved his face very close to hers so that their noses touched. “I made a mistake, and I need to tell you why…”

  “You don’t understand, do you? I don’t want to think about it. I don’t want to remember. I don’t want to be angry anymore.”

  “I wish I could go back in time and change what happened,” Thornton said. “I tried. There’s an incantation, and if I had the power to invoke it, I would. I lie awake every night thinking about it.”

  “I have a hard time believing there’s anything you can’t do.”

  “If I bugged my dad or Ash to help me, I could probably manage to make it work—but I don’t want others to have to clean up my mess. So I guess all I can do is explain. Maybe it will make things right and you can stand to be around me again…”

  “No. If you ever loved me, even in the least, please stay away from me. Stop bringing up the subject. We can’t spend time together anymore.” Not in this body, not in this mind, at least. I just can’t bear it.

  Fresh waves of pain were exploding in her chest at the reminders of his infidelity. Even though she had seen a great number of chests cut open to expose beating hearts, and even though she knew that the heart was just an organ made of muscle tissue… she felt suddenly very aware of hers. All the poems, all the songs, and all the stupid sappy movies made sense, because the emotions did really concentrate there. It must even really be possible to die of a broken heart, for the pain in her heart was greater than the pain in her head. And her head had just smashed into a glacier.

  “Pax,” he said softly, “I do love you.”

  And the pain intensified tenfold. Of all the attacks I’ve ever seen and borne, and of all the godlike destruction I have witnessed and caused, this takes the cake. Thorn wins the trophy of most lethal. Pulling her left hand free, she moved it down to her abdomen and placed the fingers firmly against her solar plexus. She tried to follow with her right hand in the correct formation to attempt teleporting away, but before she could touch her stomach, Thornton grabbed her wrist and slammed her hand into the ice above her head.

  “Don’t go,” he said softly. He lowered his lips close to hers so that his warm breath caressed her lips. Visibly. It was rather cold that particular day in Antarctica. This made the warmth of his threatening kiss even more welcome to her body, while being completely unwelcome to her mind. You have got to be kidding me. He’s not really going to do this. Pax’s eyes darted to his lips and back to his eyes with alarm.

  Yep, he did it.

  His lips had descended on hers with soft wet warmth, pressing together the final part of their bodies that needed to be touching. The kiss sucked away her energy, rapidly reducing her strength. As he moved his lips against hers, kissing first her bottom and then her top lip, she felt her prana retreat somewhere far away where it couldn't be reached, almost completely disappearing. The red energy that had surrounded her dissipated, and her short black tresses fell limp and flat against the watery ice. She expected unconsciousness to take her, but unfortunately, she remained awake.

  She prayed for a miracle. Ideally, the miracle would consist of her body morphing completely into ice and becoming one with the glacier beneath her. For that was the only way that she could resist moving her lips in response against his. Her rebellious body was disobeying her commands. She was allowing herself to be kissed, and soon she was kissing back, savoring the taste of him. The sweaty, bloody, manly taste of him.

  Disappear. Disappear. I need to not be me any longer. Para… I need to be Para. She would never feel so defeated and ashamed. Would she?

  Thornton allowed his own energy to be calmed as well, slipping out of Ruby Form. This meant that he knew she was no longer struggling to get away from him. She was submissive; she was his again. I’m sorry, Pax. I’m so sorry, he said telepathically. Forgive me? Without intending to, her arms snaked around his shoulders so that she could cling to him, and she gave the tiniest of nods without detaching their lips. He kept a small aura of energy around them to keep them warm as he continued to devour her mouth with hungry kisses. It had been too long. The warmth generated by their bodies had melted some of the ice around where they lay, and Pax was almost immersed in a small pool of water. Thornton lifted his mouth from her now swollen and pink lips to gaze down at her body ardently. Her tattered clothes were soaked and adhering to her in a very enticing manner.

  He brushed his thumb over the exposed patc
hes of skin. “I don't think we have a thumbtack in Antarctica,” he mused in a breathy voice before returning his mouth to hers. His hands were moving to the buttons on her blouse. For the first time since they’d been in the neighborhood, she suddenly felt the coldness of the ice against her skin, and it pierced right through her. It was, in fact, pretty cold.

  One button.

  If I know my Thorn, he’ll have my clothes off in an instant and then there's no going back. It’s just so natural, how can I fight it? I need to fight it, but my body is staging a mutiny against me. I wish someone would come and save me from this… save me from my own weakness. I do so love it when he does that to my neck.

  Two buttons.

  I guess there are no chances that anyone will walk by, considering this continent is uninhabited. Why did I have to fly in this direction? I should have stayed close to the equator. China would have been nice. And at least I would have been warm while miserable.

  Three buttons.

  Am I going to allow myself to be used? Probably. So help me, my body remembers things that my mind has forced itself to forget. I won't be able to look at myself in the mirror ever again. Maybe someone will come to check on us. Vincent? Papa? Ash? Maybe someone will notice the fluctuations in our life forces and realizing that we were fighting, they will come to see if we're okay.

  Four buttons.

  This is ridiculous. My shirt is torn to pieces anyway; why bother with the buttons? Just rip it off me like you always do, Thorn. And like you probably do to all your other women. No. What am I doing?

  “Stop. Stop, Thorn. Please.”

  Pax placed her hands on her chest, trying futilely to hold the pieces of her blouse together. Telling him to stop was something she had never, ever done. Not once in the past decade. She was usually starting things, and begging for more. It was hard to play this harsh new role.

  “I can’t stop,” Thornton groaned, grinding his body against hers to show her. He pressed his lips against her neck. “God, Pax. I need you so badly…”

  She felt the ache in her womb respond to his words. She needed him too. Her body urged her to give in, to relax and let it be. To allow herself to gain and receive pleasure from the man she loved. The needy parts of her mind and spirit also begged her to let things continue—they knew that it would somehow feel reassured once it was over. It would make her forget everything for a few minutes, and she could move on… they could go back to the way things used to be. She wouldn’t be alone anymore. She didn’t have to say or do anything; she could just relax and let him heal all her hurts, and make it all better.

  But her pride said no.

  “Thorn… it’s over.” The effort it took to resist sent tears sliding out of the outer corners of her eyes, soaking her already blood-soaked temples. “It's over, for good. You know that I can’t forget. I loved you. I do love you with all my heart, but you cheated on me. You were with another woman, and you’ll just do it again. Please, just leave me alone.”

  He looked at her with surprise, moving a thumb to her lashes. “You’re crying? You, Pax? Not blowing me up, but crying?”

  “Does it give you satisfaction? To see me belittled and broken? To know that you have power over me, that you can affect me so greatly? Congrats.”

  The pool of water was growing too deep, and Thornton gently cradled Pax in his arms and flew her onto the solid ice. He held her close, against his chest. “Why do you think I'm such a monster? I could never gain pleasure from your suffering. I haven't seen you cry since… since your mom...”

  The memory triggered a sob and another vehement outburst. “Soak it up! Cherish the moment! Take a fucking picture, because you won't see it happen ever again. Now please go away!”

  “And leave you crying on a glacier in the middle of Sakra-knows-where?”

  “Yes. Sakra does know, so I’ll be fine. Please go.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, hot stuff.” Thornton sighed, kissing her forehead. As the tears froze on her cheeks, he carefully wiped them away from her skin. She moved her head to the side angrily to avoid even that tiniest of touch—as though it burned her. She looked off into the distance and still prayed that someone would come. She felt so weak. So very helpless. She, Pax! She was still in his arms, which meant she hadn't won yet. Isn’t anyone sensing our prana? Doesn't anyone care that we've been fighting and… why couldn't you just show up and save me, Papa? Like you always did when I was little. Right at the moment things were about to get dangerous, you'd always be there.

  Thornton kissed her tears away gently, murmuring sweet nothings. She didn’t hear any of them until this sentence:

  “Pax, you need to know this: that woman you saw in my office…”

  Something snapped in her. This was it. This was the doorway to her strength. The doorway to the power released by her insane, violent, female deva rage. Deep in her center it awakened and exploded in an instant, flooding her consciousness. She didn't need anyone to come and save her.

  Like an intergalactic shampoo commercial, her limp hair began to glow and lift off the ground, engorged with pure red energy. Eyes that had been dull and lifeless a moment before were now filled with electric golden passion. Vivid visuals of Thornton putting his lips on Para's shoulder the night before came to her. She saw his body moving on top of the pinstripe suited redhead as he unapologetically pounded his hips against her. Images of him with his face glued to the woman’s offensive neck polluted her brain. Now, using those same lips to kiss her! To kiss her!

  She sobbed, her small hands condensing into even smaller, solid, airtight fists. In perfect, powerful form she smashed her knuckles into Thornton's mouth with all the strength in her body. He rolled away from her, clutching his bleeding lips in shock.

  “How could you?” she yelled, blinking away tears of rage as she leapt on him and began to pummel his face for all she was worth. Thornton needed to assume Ruby Form again in order to defend himself. He managed to block most of her blows at first, but as the fight carried on her increasing frenzied mania proved too much. After a time he was overpowered, for his own energy seemed to be fading while Pax’s was seemingly unlimited, flowing forth from an ethereal source.

  Her wrath took her from one attack to another seamlessly for over an hour, and she found herself hovering in the air high above him and chucking beams of prana down toward him in rapid succession. The heat from the explosions melted the ice around him, making a large watery crater that she hoped would be his grave.

  “…And I don’t care…”

  She used her hands to dislodge a frozen fragment of the landscape and send the giant chunks of ice hurtling down into the wounded man.

  “…If the fucking penguins…”

  Concentrating mildly and twisting her fingers, she broke the top off a mountain and retreated upwards so that she would have room to crush it down on Thornton repeatedly.

  “…Hate the renovations!”

  Finding this weapon satisfactory, she slammed the same heavy mountaintop down on him again and again. Her power swept her into delirium as she continued fighting frantically. It was like this, with Pax in this blind fury, that their fathers found them.

  “I told her to wait until lunchtime,” remarked Vincent, who did care enough about his son's life enough to show up after all. “This is worse than before.”

  Raymond had simply stared in open-eyed disbelief, not even recognizing his daughter. The rich red glow around her concealed her face and body from view, and her features were transformed with madness. "Is that really Paxie? What's gotten into her?”

  Vincent’s eyes shifted to the left as they observed Raymond callously. “Why don’t you go back to India and leave me to be the primary father figure for the girl: what’s the worst that could happen? She could turn out like this?”

  Frowning, Raymond examined his daughter’s life force. “She isn’t like this. Her prana is all fragmented.” The dark haired man stared with uncomprehending wide eyes as his only daughter tried her b
est to obliterate Thornton with thousands of tons of ice and rock. Having noticed the intensity of the fight while meditating in India, he had flown toward the crisis as fast as possible, and Vincent had done the same. He knew Pax had a temper and every time she got herself into a fight it was not necessarily an emergency… but this time, Raymond's fatherly instinct made him feel he was needed. What concerned him most about the sight was the change in his daughter’s appearance.

  “Where’s all her hair?” Raymond asked. “I thought Paxie loved having long…”

  “You idiot! Your daughter is killing my son and you want to talk about her haircut?” Vincent turned to the side and spat. “For the record, I’ve been telling her to cut her hair for years. Long hair just gets in a warrior’s way and…”

  Raymond growled. “What happened, Vince?”

  Vincent folded his arms as though he were casually watching a display of fireworks. "She caught my son growing familiar with another woman’s genitals. She fried the woman and then let loose on Thornton. Asher and I stopped her before any serious harm could be done, mainly to keep anyone at the compound from seeing them use their powers. Out here it's not much of an issue that anyone might see."

  "No," said Raymond, processing the information and shaking his head. “Are you trying to tell me that Pax killed someone? That’s impossible. In the first place, Thorn would never do that to Pax. He loves her. There must be some mistake.”

  “You’ve been in India for a really long time.”

 

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